


Tumblr Drabbles

by NaomiJameston



Series: Drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiJameston/pseuds/NaomiJameston
Summary: All of the drabbles I've posted on Tumblr
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Series: Drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742050
Comments: 65
Kudos: 74
Collections: Hearts and Cauldrons - Daily Prompts!, Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Members





	1. Midwinter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [turtle_wexler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_wexler/gifts), [Mersheeple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersheeple/gifts), [oihermione](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oihermione/gifts).



Midwinter

The annual Weasley Christmas bash was in full swing behind him as Severus gazed out the window. The cacophony of children, pets, stressed adults, and those who had celebrated a bit too much beforehand contrasted wildly with the soft fall of the snow outside. He smiled to himself, wondering briefly at how he had found himself inside the house and in the celebrations when he truly should still be on the outside looking in.

Someone called for more carols and various redheads gathered around the piano that slid out of the parlor wall. They ran through many of the favorites with more enthusiasm than talent and though Severus could appreciate their exuberance, he found his attention being pulled once again out the window.

He didn’t know how long he stood there nor how many carols had been sung, but eventually Arthur played the opening chords to “In the Bleak Midwinter.” Severus found himself humming along and soon was singing quietly, more to the window and the world outside than to himself.

“Snow was falling, snow on snow. Snow on snow. In the bleak midwinter, long, long ago…”

The piano faded behind him and Severus realized a start that the room had silenced behind him. He grimaced then turned slowly to face the censure of his peers and probably a foot out the door.

But there was none.

The Weasley kids gawked at him and Molly was blowing her nose loudly. Even Potter’s eyes were suspiciously wet, but he covered it with a harsh cough.

“That was beautiful,” Granger finally said, tear tracks down her face but her voice firm. “Would you be so kind as to sing it again?”

Severus hesitated. “I… would hate to ruin your fun. My voice is… untrained.”

Arthur chuckled. “You’re better than all of us. Perhaps just one verse?”

The others echoed his sentiments and settled into various seats around the room. Granger- Hermione, he reminded himself; she’d long since graduated- was seated right across from him. He gulped down his spiked cider.

“The last verse, and not a word more.” Arthur struck up the chords again after flipping to the correct page in his book. Severus took a steadying breath and sang:

“What can I give Him- poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. If I were a Wiseman-” his eyes fluttered closed and his voice faltered momentarily. Memories flooded him, no matter how he fought. His father’s belt sliding through its loops. The disgust in his voice as he told Eileen to “stop making a toff out of the boy.” His mother sighing that evening and stroking back his hair. “I can’t teach you to sing anymore, Sev. Your father…” Her voice breaking. He never heard her sing again after that.

“I would do my part,” a female voice carried the tune and startled his eyes open. Across from him, Hermione sang, her voice solid and true. Gifted. Sure. Her eyes twinkled gently at him and she smiled.

“Yet what I can I give Him,” Severus responded, warmth flooding his voice as the memories faded. Their voices found harmony and brought Molly to tears again on the last line:

“Give my heart.”


	2. Walking Into Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Mersheeple, who told me, and I quote: “go on NJ, break my heart...lol...you know you want to!”
> 
> So don't blame me. I'm just the messenger.

Walking Into Shadows

The bed was so uncomfortable against his back, but he couldn’t do more than shift and whine under his breath. He picked at the sheets with surprisingly nimble fingers. They still hurt, the arthritis in them usually rendering them useless, but now they seemed to have a life of their own, smoothing the sheets over and over and over. He twisted his head to hear the people above him, but their voices faded in and out.

“Keep him comfortable,” he heard most often. And “pneumonia” and “merciful.” And “gather the family.”

They sat around him now, all of them. His children, the four of them. Their spouses. And the grandchildren, all but three of them- they lived in Australia, the United States, and Uruguay. The Australian hadn’t been able to get time off work; the American hadn’t spoken to her mother in twenty years; and no one could find the one in Uruguay. But as many as could be at his side were, and the magical confines of a St. Mungo’s hospital room were at its limits.

He’d never known he’d wanted a big family, but Hermione had been adamant. She didn’t know a single only child who was happy with their lack of siblings. She’d wanted to be surrounded by family growing up, and she’d make sure her children were. And besides, she’d winked at Severus not long after he’d proposed, they had a duty to repopulate the Wizarding World.

They’d lived a long and beautiful life together- often stressful and crazy, but never dull, and he never doubted his love for her, hers for him, nor their love for their family. And he never doubted that he’d be surrounded on his deathbed, as he was now. It felt right.

Every now and then one of his children or grandchildren would lean down to whisper into his ear. Words of love and encouragement. Sobbed words of gratitude from one son-in-law; he’d been particularly hard on his youngest daughter’s beau but the man had risen to the challenge and Severus had made him a full partner in his business. The boy had had a hard life and Severus could see himself at that age. He couldn’t have let the boy flounder anymore than his own children, but that didn’t mean he’d let him slack either. And he hadn’t. He’d quickly risen to the highest ranks of Severus’ affection, right alongside his own children.

They whispered over him now, his children and grandchildren. The great-grandchildren had all been paraded through earlier to say their goodbyes, though most of them had been too young to understand. The eldest of them had insisted that she wanted to stay, and he could hear her arguing with her mother in the far corner by the door. 

But though more words are whispered into his ear and more kisses pressed to his cheek, he cannot hear the one he yearns for the most. The one he’s missed for so long. Her voice.

Hermione. His lips move to speak her name, the beautiful name that he'd loved for many, many years, but no sound emerges. His eldest daughter cries anyway.

"He's calling for Mum," she said through her tears. And she's right, but she's wrong. He's not calling; he’s waiting. He won't leave without Hermione. She'd been his rock for nearly a century now; he couldn’t possibly conceive of going anywhere without her…

"It won't be long now," a male voice said. One of his grandsons-in-law. The herbalist? No, no. The lawyer. He tried to sneer but his lips didn't move.

"Oh, he's growing so cold," a tiny little voice spoke at his elbow. His eldest great-grandchild. He'd know her anywhere. He felt her small hands clasp his own, hers so warm and full of life that they brought joy with them. He squeezed them as tight as he could and she giggled.

"Mina, come away; he’s gone," her mother spoke. He didn't care for her, either. She and the lawyer were two of a pair and he goggled at how two of his grandchildren could have had such poor taste to marry them. He and Hermione had raised them better than that. But love would always win, he knew.

"But he's still here, Mummy," the tiny voice said. She squeezed his hand and Severus squeezed back. "He can flutter his fingers!"

"He's more than half dead and he doesn't need you bothering him," her mother said. Severus could hear her hands as they clasped the girl's shoulders roughly and the tiny hand in his slipped away. He wanted to cry at its loss and he flailed as hard as he could.

"Let the girl stay, Helena," another grandchild said. Tobias, that was the one. An unfortunate name for such a kind man, but family tradition often won out. He and Hermione had expressly forbidden anyone from using their names and so far their descendants had agreed. He was sure that their names would be used now, with neither him nor Hermione there to object.

The tiny warm hand, full of love and bright as a star, pressed into his again. Above them, the adults hissed at each other, but their words faded as his great-grandchild whispered in his ear.

"It's ok, Baba. Nana's waiting for you in Heaven."

He squeezed her hand again, feeling the tears prickling at his useless eyes. Blind for years now, and he'd never seen his great-grandchildren, but he loved them all.

"She's right, you know," a woman spoke in his other ear. He turned easily to face her, rising from the bed in one swift movement. 

"Hermione," he gasped, drinking in the sight of her. She was just as he remembered- young and lithe and perfect, with that sassy grin and wild hair he knew so well. She held her arms out wide.

"Hello, my love. And welcome home."


	3. In Possession of It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote two versions of this, but I'm only posting the nice one. The other... it bothered me, and if it bothers me, it's too much. This nice version is so much less than the dark version, but it was time to walk away from it. Enjoy?
> 
> If you want to read the dark version (unedited; I'm serious- I had to walk away), find me on tumblr and ask. It's lhbeauty.

“Severus, you have to let this go.” The woman spoke behind him and Severus hunched his back against her words.

“No,” he said. “I’ve accepted that you want him and that’s that.”

He stabbed his gardening spade into the soil with a bit more force than was strictly necessary and it bent against a rock. Cursing quietly, he pulled it free to press it against his thigh to straighten it back out. It was hard work and painful against the thin skin of his leg, but he welcomed the unpleasant sensation. It hurt less than seeing her in the arms of that damned boy. Hugging him. Probably fucking him. Laughing at Severus together. He was a fool for hoping she’d-

Her hand reached out and pulled the spade free. She swept magic over the bent handle, which righted itself with a soft pop, then knelt in front of him to catch his gaze with her own.

“Enough, my love. I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”

He licked dry lips and struggled to push the words out of his throat. “Do… Do you mean that?” 

With a soft smile, Hermione set the spade aside and held out her hand. Severus took it cautiously, shouting in surprise as Hermione pulled him off balance to crash into her. She let them fall to the soft grass gently and cradled him close, smoothing her hand down his hair as his head rested on her shoulder. 

“Oh, my poor Severus,” she crooned. “You really don’t understand how much I love you, do you?”

He lifted his head. “Do you? Love me, that is. The Weasley boy is special to you, I know.”

She smiled and laughed gently. “Severus Snape, I will say this one time and one time only: Ron is nothing but brother to me. I had thought once that we be more, but that was the hopeless fantasy of a child caught in a war. We would never work and we’d both rather forget that we were ever anything but siblings. But I love you, you foolish man. And I intend to show you my love every day for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me.”

She clasped her fingers behind his head but did not pull him down, waiting for his permission. He opened and closed his mouth several times to speak.

“But… do you not love him as well?”

She rolled her eyes. “How could I give anyone my heart when you already have possession of it?”

The clouds parted behind them and Severus lowered himself to kiss the woman he loved.


	4. Acromantulas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my friends at the Hearts & Cauldrons discord for this prompt!

“Miss- Er, pardon. Professor Granger, might I borrow you for a moment?”

Though Hermione hadn’t been a student in nearly a decade and  _ had _ been a professor herself for the last year, her heart still skipped a beat and she briefly worried what she’d done wrong. She straightened from her student’s desk where she’d been helping the young girl grasp the finer points of a particular Arithmancy calculation to face the doorway. Professor Snape stood there, clad in his traditional black on black ensemble with a myriad of buttons. His collar was higher than when she’d been a student in an effort to cover the horrific scars from Nagini’s attack. Though he’d healed fully, the surface damage would never fade. He’d gotten tired of the gasps and whispered conversations, and had raised his collar. No one mentioned it anymore.

_ Odd _ , Hermione thought.  _ He looks… nervous? _ Though he stood ramrod straight with his hands clasped in front of him, the very picture of indifference, but Hermione noticed that his weight shifted minutely from foot to foot and his knuckles were white. With a concerned purse of her lips, she crossed the room to join him at the doorway.

“How can I help you, sir?” she asked. Snape’s eyes drifted over her curious classroom and she heard the shuffling of papers as her students pretended they were fully focused on their studies. With a tiny sneer, Snape swept the door open further, motioning her to join him outside. He swung the door closed behind her with a decisive thump and warded it, and them, with a silencing spell.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Snape grimaced, clasped his hands, released them, clasped them again. His eyes darted around the barely visible shimmer of magic around them. He opened his mouth to speak several times but always closed it when Hermione thought he might be about to speak. But she’d learned some semblance of patience in her years of teaching, and she settled back on her heels to wait. 

“I… I need your help, Granger. With a matter of some… delicacy,” he finally said. He rubbed his neck with one large hand and grimaced, ill at ease. Hermione gulped. She’d only read about such things in the novels she kept hidden in her nightstand. She didn’t think such negotiations actually happened in real life. But she was a professor now and a fully grown woman, so certainly she’d- 

She cleared her throat. “I am of course happy to help however I can, sir. But, um, what exactly-” 

“There’s something I need in the forest and I- I don’t-” He huffed out a breath in irritation. “I need to gather some acromantula venom from a living specimen. For a potion. Of course. Hagrid has agreed to talk to one for me, but I have to- I… I don’t like acromantulas!” Snape burst out. 

Hermione released breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  _ Of course he meant his potions, stupid girl. _ She ignored the clutch of disappointment under her heart and couldn’t help the tiny self-deprecating laugh that escaped her lips. Snape glared at her and she cleared her throat to cover her gaff.

“Sir, they’re just spiders,” she said finally.

Snape rolled his eyes. “Yes, and Everest is just a mountain. Are you going to help me or shall I find someone who won’t mock?”

Hermione smiled and raised a solemn hand. “I swear I didn’t mean to mock you. Would it make you feel better to know that I despise flying?”

Snape considered for a moment, tapping a long finger to his chin before nodding. “I suppose that knowledge will make us even, though I will point out that  _ I _ did not share my amusement at your expense. Will you be available after dinner?”

Hermione nodded with a grin. “I’ll meet you by Hagrid’s hut.” 

He moved his head in a sharp approximation of a nod then turned and marched away with a dramatic sweep of his cloak. Hermione watched him appreciatively for a moment, as always impressed with his flair for the dramatic. Her robes weren’t nearly as… as  _ swooshy _ as his. She wondered if he used magic for it or if it was just the movement of his legs, or his hips, or-

Clearing her throat, she released the silencing spell, then turned back to her classroom. A dozen children pressed their faces to the inset glass, watching their fearsome Potions professor stalk away. She tutted and as one, the children’s eyes grew wide and they scattered back to their seats. 

“Right, then!” Hermione said cheerfully as she entered the classroom. “Now that we’re all pretending not to be curious little kittens, let us review this equation one more time.”


	5. Writhe

She swore the first time was an accident. And it was the truth. But every time after that was absolutely on purpose. 

Hermione was addicted to making Severus writhe on the floor, his mouth open and his cries echoing from the damp stone walls. They never did it in public, of course, and their relationship remained distantly courteous around the other professors, but when they were alone? Severus was all hers.

And really, who could blame her? She loved finding the best spots that made him squirm. That spot just under his ear? Perfection. The one at his waist? Divine. And heavens, but running her fingers down her spine to watch him wriggle in his helpless throes…

It wasn’t her fault he was so ticklish.


	6. Not Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Oihermione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Response to the prompt: "Don't worry, it's not mine" from oihermione on the Hearts&Cauldrons Discord group.

“Don’t worry,” Hermione laughed and hoisted the child higher up on her hip, “I’m not keeping him.”

Severus blinked and shook his head to clear the rising panic.

“Of course not,” he sneered. “Only idiots have children so young.”

Ron poked his head around the corner from where he was dealing with a dirty nappy currently attached to a shrieking child. “I would take offense since Hermione is holding my son, but if I’d known what I was getting into…”

Lavender laughed from the kitchen. “Nothing would have changed and you know it!”

Ron snickered. “True enough. Have you considered ever having children, Snape?”

His lip lifted of its own accord and his voice was a disgusted growl. “Even if I had, being a teacher for so long obliterated any such desire.”

Hermione chuckled. “At least your students generally knew how to clean themselves.”

Severus snorted in derision but didn’t confirm or deny her supposition. Hermione swept past him to put the child in his high chair while Ron wrangled his twin sister into hers. Lavender hauled over a giant pot of spaghetti- “it’s too simple, I know, but when you’re feeding an army…” She winked at her husband- and called the rest of the family in. 

Weasleys of all ages came tromping through the door. Children shrieked and shouted, and more than one threw worms they’d unearthed from the garden at each other. They were forced into the bathroom to wash their hands before being allowed to scramble into their seats at the table. Plates were passed noisily, utensils scraped along porcelain, and more than one Weasley uncle tossed a ribald joke into the mix. Severus surveyed the chaos and though his stomach rumbled noisily, he decided to save his sanity instead. 

The door closed behind him with a soft click and he took a deep breath in relief. The air was cool outside and the sunset brilliant in the low clouds. Orange painted the sky and the underside of the clouds were a light pink in defiance. A breeze ruffled the tree above as he settled on a large root, flicking his wand to banish the wet and any insects he’d be disturbing. He leaned back against the trunk with a sigh.

“It’s lovely out,” Hermione said. Severus looked up with a start to see her standing with two large plates and two glasses floating behind her. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” he said, sweeping his wand again to clear a space for her. He transfigured a fallen twig into a low table for Hermione to set the plates on.

“This is nice,” she said, handing him his glass. “I see why you left.”

“Besides not wanting to have my arm mistaken for a chicken wing by a hungry Weasley?” he smirked. Hermione laughed.

“You’re far more polite than I. I go elbows first.”

“Ah, I’d wondered how you’d secured such a spread,” Severus said, nodding at the plates. “Remind me to bet on you if you’re ever in a fist fight.”

She snickered and they leaned against each other as they ate. The light faded slowly and the glow worm lights flickered. The breeze teased Hermione’s hair as it passed through, lifting a curl to tickle Severus’ cheek. He lifted the tendril to kiss it before tucking it down.

“You’re quiet,” Hermione said.

“I’m always quiet, love.” 

Hermione snorted, conceding the point. “Quieter than usual, then. What’s on your mind?”

A long moment passed as Severus considered his words carefully, but Hermione seemed content to stay quiet as he thought.

“Do you…” Severus swallowed against the sudden nervousness that rose in his throat and he settled with gesturing vaguely at the house behind them. “Is that what you see in your future?”

Hermione twisted her head to look up at him with a wry smile. “An overstuffed house that’s far too loud and chaotic for anyone to think, let alone live? Hardly.”

He sighed in silent thanks. “What  _ do _ you see, then?”

This time she was the one considering her words and he was the silent partner, but he was just as content to sit there forever.

“I see… Well, I  _ want _ a quiet life, Severus. Sitting here, like this? This is as close to perfection as I could ever hope to find.” She shrugged. “I may want children someday, but I’m more than happy just being myself right now. What do you see?”

Severus pressed a kiss to her scalp. “The same. I like what we have now.”

Hermione smiled at him softly, leaning her face up to accept a kiss. She sighed gently as his lips nibbled on her own.

“What would you have done if I’d wanted to be the next Molly Weasley?” she asked later as he wrapped his cloak around them both.

Severus snorted. “Told you to find a Weasley and gotten myself fixed.”

Her laugh startled some nesting birds above them as the sun slid below the horizon. 


	7. Locked Chest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Hearts&Cauldrons discord prompt. This time was a picture of a chest with a key in the lock. (I forgot the key.)

There had always been a locked chest tucked far under their bed, but Hermione tried not to think about it. If Severus wanted her to know about it, he’d have told her. But a voice niggled in the back of her head. ‘He’s hiding something. He has another family. He doesn’t love you. He’s secretly grooming the next Voldemort. He’s-’ She always shook her head to clear the thoughts, but they were never gone for long.

When he proposed- ‘I wonder if someone else’s ring is in that box.’

When he traveled- ‘Did he need something from the box?’

When he disappeared into their room for a nap- ‘Is he actually looking in the box?’

And the night before their wedding, she couldn’t sleep. The box taunted her. It called her. She had to know! Was it love letters to Lily? Mementos from past lovers? An illegal potion?

“You’re thinking again,” Severus muttered, his face pressed into the pillows. He leaned up on his elbows to look at his fianc é e. “Are you having second thoughts?”

She shook her head vehemently but tears gathered in her eyes. Severus sat up fully. 

“Hermione? What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t-” her voice broke on a sob. “I have to know!”

Severus blinked. “Have to know what, love? I don’t keep secrets from you.”

“What’s in the box?!” she burst out, immediately clapping her hands over her mouth. She stuttered, “I- I mean, you don’t have to tell me. It’s yours, after all. I don’t-”

“What box?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “I thought we’d unpacked all of the boxes when we moved in?”

“No, no,” she waved her hands erratically, nearly catching him on the nose. “The chest, Severus. The one under our bed.”

“Oh,” he said, his lips quirking. “You want to know what’s in my chest?”

“Yes!”

He lifted her hand to press a kiss to it. “My heart, obviously.”

Hermione counted to five. Twice. Slowly. In Greek.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” she finally said in a low growl. Severus was unaffected by her barely tampered rage and chuckled as he stood from the bed.

“I am exactly as funny as I think I am; you’re just in no mood to tease.” He leaned down to slide the chest out and placed it on Hermione’s lap. She stared at him until he motioned to it with another laugh. “Go on. You wanted to know and you’re right that we shouldn’t keep secrets.”

She regarded him suspiciously, but her fingers were already on the lock. It didn’t have a key, but it didn’t matter- the lid flew open on its own.

“It’s not locked?” she asked with some incredulity. Severus chuckled beside her.

“I’m amazed at your restraint,” he said, “that you didn’t even try to open it before.”

She wrinkled her nose at him but didn’t respond as she reached into the box.

It was deeper than she expected and she pulled up a handful of papers. She set them on her lap to go through them- old tickets to the cinema, a letter she’d written him while he’d been recovering from the war, an invitation she’d sent to the Ministry ball where they’d first danced-

“These are all…”

“They’re you. They’re us.” He tapped Hermione’s chin so she turned to look at him, tears streaming freely down her face. He kissed each drop on her cheek before resting his forehead on hers. “I told you, Hermione. My heart is in the chest. And my heart is you.”


	8. Sleeping Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this buried deep in my archives and a whole bunch of notes from Qdrew telling me to upload it. I cleaned it up a little but it's 95% the same from when I first wrote it. Any mistakes remain mine. :)
> 
> Warnings: canon violence, snakes

The huge snake reared back and struck true. Severus fell, his back hitting the wall with such force that the breath left his lungs in a whoosh.The Dark Lord stood over him, a looming figure well-suited to the shadows surrounding them. He was speaking, no doubt congratulating himself on his victory over Severus.

_ Come on, damn it, move! _ Severus thought desperately. Though he was feigning the speed with which Nagini’s toxin was taking effect, he was alarmed at how quickly it was moving through his system. Already the muscles in his legs were locking up and his fingers were tingling.

Voldemort just kept talking. And talking. And talking. Severus was paralysed to his hips now and he couldn’t make a fist anymore. Thankfully he’d practiced grabbing vials with numb fingers so he still had a chance to use the antivenom he always kept on his person. But the potion would only extend his life by a few minutes if he drank it while Voldemort watched. The Dark Lord would simply kill him again.

His stomach cramped and he groaned involuntarily. Voldemort cackled over him and Nagini slithered in delight.

_ Go away, damn it! I just need you to go away- _

“Ah, but where are my manners?” Voldemort hissed over him. “I’m sure you would like to take your antivenom, wouldn’t you? Wormtail was kind enough to tell me about your fascination with Nagini. I would hate to see his efforts wasted.” 

With a smug grin, the Dark Lord knelt down next to the rapidly paralysing man. He rifled through Severus’ pockets, batting away his flailing limbs as though they were no more than flies. Severus tried to yell, but his vocal cords were numb and he couldn’t manage more than a gurgle. With a satisfied hiss, Voldemort pulled out the vial and shook it in front of Severus’ face. Severus lunged for it desperately but Voldemort knocked him to his side. Tears obscured his vision but he still heard the vial smash against the ground.

“Goodbye, Severus.”

_ No nononono- _

Darkness grew from the edges of his vision and brought the final fatigue with them. He shuddered and shrieked and sobbed but he couldn’t fight it. His lungs were getting harder to fill. His heartbeat was slowing-

_ No not like this nononononononopleaseno- _

“-verus?”

He couldn’t breathe.

“-verus!”

His vision was blurring.

“-ke up!”

_ Damn it, not like this! _

“Severus! Wake up!”

Warm hands shook him with such intensity that he felt like he was being broken in two. He flailed, catching something solid in the process. They hissed and twisted away. Severus reached for his wand but it was missing. He patted himself down with both hands, desperately searching, but it was gone. His shirt, too. And his-

“For Merlin’s sake, Severus!” The exasperated voice finally cut through the fog in his brain. He blinked slowly, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Warm hands caressed his shoulders and he whirled to face the person attached to them.

Beautiful brown eyes under a mess of curly brown hair stared at him.

“Hey, are you ok?” Hermione asked. She carefully cupped Severus’ cheek with her hands, surprised to find it wet. Before she could ask, Severus tackled her, folding her body into his and knocking them both over. He clutched her and his sobs rocked them both. She held him close, ran her fingers through his hair, and crooned soothing words as he cried. Many long minutes passed before Severus finally sniffed and released his hold on her.

“I apologize, my love,” he said, pulling away to sit up. He blinked in bemusement at his wife sprawled awkwardly on her back with her legs still tangled in the sheets.

“Oh dear,” he said with a chuckle. “I appear to have made a mess of you.”

“Mmm, perhaps, but you know I never have a problem with it.” She took the hand he offered her and sat up. “Are you alright? You haven’t had a nightmare like that in years.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m not sure... Maybe because Withers was bit the other day? They said the venom almost-” He cleared his throat. “Never mind. Yes, I’m fine now.” 

He rubbed the faded scars on his neck absentmindedly.

“Nagini?” Hermione asked. She ran a comforting hand along Severus’ back, noting that he’d lost weight. With a tsk, she said, “You’ve been working too hard again. The Ministry doesn’t need you to perform miracles every single day.”

“Of course they do. Nothing would get done otherwise,” he quipped with a grin over his shoulder. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes. His laughter loosened a worried knot under her heart and she took a long-needed deep breath.

“Thank you for waking me,” Severus said. Hermione kissed his shoulder.

“Of course,” she replied. “It’s not often that I get to wake a sleeping prince, you know.”

“Yes, well,” he chuckled, “Next time, might I request a kiss rather than a hard shake? It would do wonders for my constitution.”

Hermione pushed Severus down with a wicked grin.. “You only had to ask.”


End file.
